8/31/2011, Cody, Wyoming
One of my greatest and most exhausting pleasures is driving from Georgia to Wyoming and Montana. A little more than half way across Missouri, the land begins to look more western. The population is less dense. The rivers appear less tamed, with high limestone bluffs and wilder currents bordered by cottonwoods. Place and stream names may be American, Indian, or French, from the days before the Purchase. The sky grows larger and when I top a rise on the highway I feel as though there is no higher elevation on earth.
Radio stations play country music, grain and hog prices, concerns about neighbors and various versions of Tell and Sell, featuring hunting dogs and John Deere equipment. Rough looking characters hold the door open and service station attendants are well spoken and polite.
The far mountains beckon. The beauty is indescribable and vistas are endless.
